by Mia Garcia
Still, she didn’t pull out, her hand hovering over the steering wheel as she wondered what she would say to her friends. It couldn’t get more disappointing than her rush out the door, could it? And Lee . . . what would happen with Lee?
“Jess?”
“Right.” God, it was so easy to slip back into the thoughts, wasn’t it? “Let’s go back.”
She was so preoccupied with not listening to her thoughts that she didn’t see the approaching headlights in her side-view mirror until it was too late.
Lee
LEE WANTED TO throw up—she needed to throw up. Her body shook as she sat in the waiting room, convincing herself it was just a reaction to the temperature. Waiting rooms had not gotten any better over the years. They were still too cold, too loud, and increasingly uncomfortable.
David offered her a soda, which she turned away. He insisted. “I read somewhere that sugar can help during stress. Something to do with serotonin. Plus you’ll need the caffeine.”
She chugged it, not feeling any calmer. She took a breath. This was all her fault. Why didn’t she just tell Jess earlier? WHY? The scene kept replaying in her head: Jess finding them on David’s bed, Lee’s clothes on the floor, Jess backing out of the room as they struggled to get their clothes back on.
All at once parents descended on them with a flood of questions she couldn’t answer. Her dad pushed through, taking hold of her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
Was she? She wasn’t in the car, if that’s what he meant.
“I . . .” She started to say then changed her mind. “They won’t tell me anything.”
Jess’s and Nora’s moms fixed that real quick, managing to scare even the most veteran of nurses who picked up the phone to check in.
Please. Please. Please let her be okay, please let her be okay.
Ryan was the last to arrive, giving his parents a quick hug before going straight to Lee. “Sorry, had to park like forever away. What happened?”
Lee stepped away from the adults, breaking down the whole evening, waiting for the stinging blow of Ryan’s anger that never came. Instead he wrapped her up in his arms. “This is not your fault.”
Her body shook, and she sobbed into his chest. “I don’t know if they’re okay.”
“They’ll be okay,” Ryan replied as he wiped his own tears.
David had tried to sit by her, but she shook her head, shifting toward her dad. She wasn’t mad at him, but it felt wrong to be so close to him at the moment when all she could see was Jess running out the door, over and over again. And Beth, who sat just a few chairs away, looked so much smaller than she’d ever seen her, reminding her that she’d hurt Nora too. What the actual fuck, Lee?
At four a.m. Nora came through the doors, red scratches along her arms, but otherwise just looking tired.
“I’m fine,” she said as Beth, Lee, and Ryan pounced. “I promise, just some scrapes.”
“She was very lucky.” Nora’s mother followed, running a hand through Nora’s hair. “There’s shitty cell service inside, otherwise we would’ve let you know sooner.”
Minutes later Jess’s mom came out, a faint smile on her face. “She’s okay. Her left arm is broken from the impact, and they want to keep her under observation since she hit her head. You should all head home.” She looked drawn and was rubbing her neck. “She’ll still be here tomorrow, so might as well get a good night’s sleep.”
“When will they move her to a room?” Ryan asked.
“I don’t know, Javier is with her now. Frankly we’re lucky he was on call, otherwise we would still be waiting. They said maybe an hour or two till they have a free room.”
“We’ll stay,” Lee stated. She needed to stay. If she went home right now she’d just be alone with the guilt. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” she replied, giving Lee a big hug.
Lee wasn’t sure she deserved it.
Jess
SLEEP THROUGH THIS. Keep your eyes closed long enough, and maybe you’ll wake up once everyone’s forgotten about this. Maybe if you wish hard enough this could be a dream.
Her mom looked uncomfortable trying to nap in the hospital chair. They’d moved Jess sometime around five a.m. The constant in and out of nurses along with the night replaying over and over again made it impossible to sleep, but she pretended to anyway. She’d messed up pretty bad and gotten Nora hurt in the process.
So much worse than the scholarship, than running away from your own party. You got Nora hurt. How could you?
A sob broke from her throat as she tried to stamp it down, but her body was a traitor that gladly sang out everything she was trying to hide. On the bright side she did finally sleep wrapped in her mother’s arms, her body giving in. They monitored her often, with a vigilance that meant either her dad or mom were responsible, most likely both. When Jess opened her eyes much later her father was in the seat, still in his scrubs, mouth open, the occasional snore escaping.
“Coño,” he mumbled, placing a hand on his back before finally noticing Jess was awake. Coming to her side, he pushed her hair off her forehead. “¿Cómo te sientes?”
“Bien,” she managed.
He arched a brow. She didn’t believe herself either.
“Just relax if you can.”
“¿Y Mami?”
“In the family waiting room con tus amigos taking a break from this Satan’s chair of pain. Plus, you know how she hates my snoring.”
He was trying to make her laugh, but all she managed was the ghost of a smile. She thumbed the edge of her father’s scrubs.
“Sorry if I smell.” He motioned to the scrubs.
Her voice broke when she looked up at her father. “I’m sorry, Papi.”
He shook his head, cradling her hands in his. He wiped the tears from her face even as they kept flowing.
“I didn’t see him coming.”
“Lo se, I know. He didn’t see you either.”
“Is he okay?”
“Sí, sí. Nothing insurance can’t fix.” He wiped the last of the tears from her face. “I’m going to go get your madre and let her know you’re awake.”
“Is she angry?”
“She was scared to death,” he said, “so was I. But if you’re wondering if you’re in trouble . . .” He paused, waiting for Jess to meet his eyes. “You are.”
“I know.” She should be. She should be grounded for the rest of her life for this. Why did that sound like a relief?
“But for now focus on getting better so we can get you home.”
HER BODY WAS kind to her, letting her sleep more than an hour at a time. When she woke Nora’s face greeted her, the afternoon sun bouncing off the brown in her eyes.
“They released you,” she said. “Your parents are talking to the doctors. We snuck in to see you.”
There was a small cut just below her cheek, along her jawline. It was so bright red it looked like she’d marked her face with a pen.
The bed shifted as Ryan sat on the bed to her right. “You scared the living shit out of us, Jess.”
She found it hard to meet their eyes. Would she see pity or anger there?
Reaching up with her healthy arm, she touched one of Nora’s cuts. “I’m so sorry, Nora.” The tears came again, already hovering along her eyes, ready to fall; she wiped them away before they could do more damage.
Nora moved closer, careful not to touch Jess’s cast too much. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m not the one with the broken arm.”
At its mention the pain in her arm increased, tired of being ignored. She tested her fingers poking out of the cast, checking, which made the pain worse if she moved it.
“Jess . . .” Lee shifted into view—the evening replayed itself all over again—she hadn’t changed after the party. Had they been here all night? Because of you, Jess.
She stared at Lee for what was probably too long, not knowing what to say, not knowing what was important. Then there was one thing that echoed in her
head.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Why wouldn’t you tell a friend something so important? “Did anyone else know?”
Nora and Ryan shook their heads—there was that, at least.
“I don’t know.” Lee’s voice was small, her eyes downcast. No one could meet anyone’s eyes today.
“How long were you together? Have you been together . . .”
Maybe it had just happened? And Lee hadn’t figured out how to tell Jess yet. That would be it. “Two months, more or less.”
“So the summer?”
Anger, sadness, confusion all mingled inside her, swirling until it was just an ugly pit of uncertainty. The only thing she could pinpoint for certain was an underlying sadness that Lee had kept something so important hidden for so long. All at once she felt tired again, her arm ached, and she just wanted to shut her eyes and move past this.
“Jess, I—”
Whatever Lee was going to say cut off as her parents came back in the room, discharge papers in hand. Behind them came David, his eyes traveling from Jess to Lee.
“Ready to go home?” Her mother smiled, presenting Jess with a set of clean clothes to change into.
“Yes.”
Home to her bed. To a closed door and quiet.
“Your friends can meet us there,” her mother said.
Jess shook her head. “I’m pretty tired, and I figure you guys are too. We can talk another day.”
“Are you sure?” Ryan asked. He’d shifted over to where Lee stood and placed an arm around her.
“Yeah.”
What would be the point? So it could make Jess feel like more of a failure? All Jess wanted to do was crawl under her covers and shut the world out. Not think of the party, or Lee, or the conversation she would have with her parents.
Nora
BETH STAYED THE night, and the next day Nora was excused from La Islita until she felt better. She wondered how long she could feign the ache along her shoulders or the pain in her arm. No one could shake Jess’s accident, and it didn’t help that even days after, Jess still hadn’t talked to anyone, retreating into a silence no one could pull her from.
No one at school understood what had happened that night, and since Nora, Lee, or Ryan couldn’t offer any explanation it wasn’t long before the whispers died off. Still, when Jess came back at the end of the following week she kept to herself, avoiding all three of them.
It ached not to talk with her, not to see her messages in her phone every day. They all felt it.
“Let’s give her some space,” Lee said, though Nora knew how desperate Lee was to talk to Jess. And maybe because of that, they listened.
Soon her mother decided that keeping Nora up-to-date with the remodeling plans was just what she needed to feel a part of La Islita again, even if she wasn’t physically able to be there. Nora’s days were filled with paint swatches, table options, and the great debate over paper place mats versus tablecloths. There seemed to be never-ending options of tiles to choose from, but only one future for Nora.
When she couldn’t take it anymore she finally returned to La Islita, letting the years of muscle memory take her through days of pressing down sandwiches in la plancha and steaming milk for the café con leches.
She texted the group one night after a long stream of congratulations on the new space and gentle reminders from customers that the new store should have Wi-Fi.
Nora: Is this it? Is this really it?
Regretting it as soon as she hit send, she picked at the scabs along her arms until any reply came. Not all the scrapes had healed, and a few drops of blood pooled along her skin. She shouldn’t have sent that. Just make the best of it. She’d done it before, she could do it again. But the more she thought about it, the faker it felt, a wrong note in a symphony.
Ryan: Talk to your mom, please.
Nora: It’s OK. I’m just having a bad day. Ignore me.
Lee: This is your life. Emphasis on your.
Jess stayed silent as she had for the past week, her absence a gaping hole in the group. Nora’s heart ached for her friend and wondered if she had let her down. Had they all let her down? Jess had always been the anchor, the one making sure they were all there for each other, but had they let her down by not being there for her?
And then it came. Jess’s text lit up her phone, making Nora’s heart skip. She’d texted outside the group chat, but she’d texted.
Jess: Hey. I know I haven’t said anything since I left the hospital. But do you remember before that car hit us and we were just sitting in the car and you tried to calm me down?
Nora waited, afraid to interrupt.
Jess: I haven’t been calm in so long. I don’t know what to do.
Nora took a breath. Should she call her? She could see another message coming in.
Jess: But I let it get to that, I didn’t listen when I needed to. I know you think you can just put away your dreams like they were never there to begin with, but that’s bullshit and you know it. You don’t deserve that. Please. Talk to your mom. For me.
Jess, oh, Jess. Nora typed as another message came through.
Jess: Gotta go, but talk later.
“Wait, no.”
She tried calling, but Jess would not pick up. She read the message again, remembering that moment in the car, all jumbled with memories of broken glass and flashing lights. In the craze of the aftermath she’d forgotten all about it. Nora needed to tell Ryan and Lee about the text, but first she’d do what Jess asked.
WAITING FOR HER mother to come home was the hardest hour of her life. She ran through scenarios, playing out each possibility, already shaking from the expected reactions. Would she be angry or just confused? There would be disappointment, of course, and that would hurt, but it was better than anger.
She heard the keys in the lock and sprang up, dancing from foot to foot.
“Sorry I’m late.” Her mother tossed her purse and coat on the table. “I had to leave some samples with the contractor.”
Tumble, tumble, her mind worked so slow, say something.
“Mami, can we talk?”
Passing Nora on the way to the kitchen her mother searched the fridge for something to snack on. “Sure. Let me just find something to eat. In all my running around I missed lunch.”
“No.” This waiting would deflate whatever courage she’d gotten from Jess’s text message. “I need to talk now.”
Confused, her mother closed the fridge and joined Nora on the couch.
“Okay. What is this about?”
Another breath.
Do this for Jess.
No, she could hear Jess say, do this for yourself.
“I don’t want to work at La Islita after I graduate.”
Nora closed her eyes against the silence and to avoid her mother’s gaze.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want this anymore.”
Quiet, so much quiet, then her mother let out a breath. “No entiendo, Nora, what are you saying? Is this a joke? Because it’s not funny.”
“It’s not, Mami.” A part of her yelled to take everything back, to apologize and just move on. She didn’t listen. Instead she thought of the cobbled streets of Paris, the sidewalks of New York, the stainless-steel test kitchens of the schools in California. “I want to go to culinary school. I want to learn new things. I want to study and master macarons and French bread. I want to bake what I want, regardless of whether it fits anywhere.”
“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”
She’d shrunk down without noticing and fought to keep her shoulders back, her eyes level with her mother’s. “It’s been a while, actually.”
Her mother pursed her lips. “How long is a while? A month? Two?”
“No.” It wouldn’t matter, though, would it?
“And now you want to give up years of our work at La Islita, for something that only came to mind a couple of months ago? Nora . . .” Her mother sighed, pinching the bridge o
f her nose. “I don’t have time for this. We have a remodel going on, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Do you? And where do you think the money would come from for these schools? Were you going to pay for them yourself, because . . . I just don’t understand where this is coming from, Nora. Changing your hair is one thing, and I accepted that, but this? This is a family business.” She scrunched up her face, and Nora wanted to smooth out the worry and shock of it. “It’s for the both of us. It’s a legacy. You know how hard we’ve worked for this.”
“I know. You know I know this. I grew up in La Islita, and it’s been my life. And I was fine with it being my future too, but then . . .” Keep going, keep going. “I gave myself room to dream, to see the possibilities. And I know this isn’t the best time—”
“The best time?” Her mother laughed, but nothing was funny. “What would be the best time to find out your daughter no longer wants the future you both planned together. What would be the best time for that?”
“I—”
“No.” Her mother raised her hand, ending whatever Nora was going to say. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Without another word she stood and left the room, leaving Nora alone, heartbroken.
Jess
RYAN WAS ON Jess’s bed and would not leave. He looped one leg over hers and wrapped a hand around the cocooned sheets that held in his friend.
Ryan’s weight was comforting though she didn’t tell him.
“I’m fine,” she said, though he hadn’t asked.
“So here’s the thing,” he whispered into the sheets. “I don’t believe you and neither do you. But I’m not going to force you to say it if you can’t, even though whatever it is you’re afraid to say, you know we won’t judge you, right?”
Deep down she knew, but it didn’t stop the tiny little voice that wondered: What if they did?
“Lee said we should give you space, which we did.”
Lee, she still hadn’t spoken to Lee. Fuck, she was a horrible friend.
“But now I’m doing what you would do, Jess. I’m here to invade your space.” He cleared his throat. “And I need your help destroying some sketches.”